


Absolute Pin

by KaelinaLovesLomaris



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Assassination Attempt(s), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hostage Situations, bomb threats, ransom demands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29689464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaelinaLovesLomaris/pseuds/KaelinaLovesLomaris
Summary: Noctis is kidnapped from school, and Cor is left to pick up the pieces. Or rather, left to try to keep Noctis in one piece.
Relationships: Cor Leonis & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Noctis Lucis Caelum & Regis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 22
Kudos: 103





	Absolute Pin

**Author's Note:**

> absolute pin - in chess, when a pinned piece cannot be moved from the line of attack, as that will expose the king to check

Noctis had been missing for over eighteen hours when Cor got the call, and they had been some of the most awful hours of Cor’s life.

Noctis had failed to meet with Ignis when his chamberlain had arrived to pick him up from school, and a gentle questioning of his best friend - whose every intimidated flinch and stammer in Cor’s presence had made Cor’s heart ache the way it had for months after he had been forced to give the boy up all those years ago - had revealed that Noctis had not shown up for his last class of the day. It was unlikely to have been a case of skipping school, as the few previous such misadventures had included, or at least been confided in, said best friend.

Security footage from the school had been less than helpful, despite the increase in security specifically due to the prince’s attendance. Cor had watched all the footage multiple times over the course of his sleepless night, tracing the prince’s movements between classes, examining the background for anyone following or watching Noctis. Nothing stood out, no one was present that he couldn’t match against the school’s database. Noctis left his second-to-last class, moved out of the camera’s range in the direction of his final class, and just… never reappeared. Somewhere in between the first and second camera on his route between his last two classes he had vanished.

Cor and his team had scoured the footage from all the other cameras on the campus, searching for even a glimpse of Noctis to no avail. He had extended requests to the school to be allowed to speak with the students who had been present in the hallway when Noctis disappeared, but of course had not heard back yet. Parents had to be contacted, and all the bureaucratic nonsense paperwork had to be properly filed. It was times like that that made Cor miss the war and his covert operations where he had been allowed to do whatever he needed, _whenever_ he needed, to achieve his objective. No waiting around for other people to clear his actions while he watched the opportunity slip past.

By the time midnight had rolled around, the slight possibility - and hope, if Cor was being honest with himself - that Noctis had left under his own power had disintegrated. Even in his worst moments of rebelliousness, he had never left them unaware of his whereabouts for so long. And those few incidents had been preceded by off behavior stemming from some form of stressor. According to his retainers and his best friend, Noctis had exhibited none of those behaviors nor was he experiencing undue stress in any of his life spheres.

Noctis had been taken, and now it was Cor’s job to find him. Or it had been, until he received the call.

The tracking for Noctis’s phone, which had been dead all night, pinged a found signal, and before it could even display the location, Cor’s own phone rang.

It was Noctis’s voice, but not his words, stilted and in unfamiliar cadences, and there were none of the code words woven into his sentences like there should have been. Just a statement that he was outside the Citadel, and a request - no, a _demand_ \- to see the king.

Noctis never called Regis “the king” outside of formal settings.

The tracker, once it came up, placed Noctis’s phone in the center of the Citadel’s courtyard. The gate guards were unresponsive when Cor tried to contact them, which explained how he had gotten there without being seen and Cor being notified. It was too much to hope that they weren’t dead.

Cor didn’t hesitate, just got on his earpiece as he sprinted for the elevator, snapping off orders to lock down the perimeter of the Citadel and keep everyone out of the courtyard. It was unlikely that Noctis had escaped or been released unconditionally, and the last thing Cor needed was civilians getting involved before the situation was resolved.

Cor hit the speed dial for Clarus, not trusting himself to speak to Regis directly until he knew more about the situation.

“What’s happening?”

“Noctis’s tracker came online just moments ago, and he called me immediately after. He’s in the courtyard, but I doubt he’s alone. I’m on my way down. Keep His Majesty away until we know what we’re dealing with.”

“Do you want backup?”

“Not yet. I’ll keep my earpiece live and update you as things unfold.”

He hung up as he entered the lobby, which was lined with Crownsguard, and the display had attracted a few curious onlookers. They parted for Cor. He exchanged a terse nod with the squad leader as he opened the front door for him.

Cor blinked against the sunlight as his eyes adjusted, and he caught sight of a lone figure standing in the center of the courtyard. Short and slight enough to be Noctis, with dark hair spiked in the style he’d recently begun experimenting with. Halfway down the stairs and Cor was reasonably sure it was Noctis, or an impressive lookalike. He was dressed in an unfamiliar, unseasonably warm jacket over his school uniform.

Noctis didn’t move as Cor approached - and it _was_ Noctis, without a doubt - but his eyes were wide and panicky and a little brighter than they should be.

“Stay back, Cor!” he yelled when Cor was still a few yards away. Cor stopped and took the moment to do a more thorough sweep of the courtyard than the quick glances he’d been managing, with his eyes fixed on Noctis as they had been. No signs of uninvited guests or unwelcome spectators, no glints of cameras or sniper rifles along the walls.

Satisfied for the moment, Cor asked, “Are you okay?”

With shaky hands, Noctis opened the jacket and exposed the harness strapped to his chest. Cor swore, then he snarled into his earpiece.

“I need a bomb squad in the courtyard _now_!”

Ignoring the weak protests of his long-suppressed survival instincts and the sudden cacophony in his ear, he approached Noctis slowly. The tears that had been gathering in his eyes had overflowed, leaving tracks down his cheeks. He swayed on his feet, like he wanted to retreat from Cor, but he didn’t move.

“Please, Cor,” he whimpered, and Cor wasn’t sure if it was a plea for help or for Cor to remove himself from the danger zone. Probably both.

He stopped a few steps away from Noctis and examined the contraption strapped to him. Bombs were not his speciality, and it was difficult to see details with the jacket half covering it, but it didn’t look like a large bomb. With where Noctis was standing, far away from the stairs into the Citadel proper, there shouldn’t be any other casualties nor much damage to the infrastructure. If it went off, it wouldn’t bring down the Citadel.

 _No,_ Cor thought wryly, _just the kingdom._

But Cor had enough experience in the field to know that a deceptively small explosive could pack a larger punch than expected, and the fact that there was a bomb at all, strapped to his godson’s chest, was a _big freaking problem._

There was a screen that was clearly a timer in the center of Noctis’s chest, displaying ten minutes, but not yet activated. Small mercies.

“He’s got an earpiece,” Cor murmured into his own and immediately received confirmation that they were working on tracing the signal.

“Are you allowed to speak to me?” he asked, nodding in the general direction of said earpiece.

Noctis started to shrug, then froze, glancing down at the tangle of wires on his chest. Nothing had changed, the timer still inactive, and he relaxed just slightly. “Depends on the question.”

The necessary first question was obvious. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” That was a small relief, but whether or not he had sustained minor injuries wasn’t going to matter if they didn’t get that bomb removed from him.

He glanced back at the earpiece. “Are you scripted?”

“Depends. Sometimes.” He paused, then added, “I’m not currently.”

“Are you alone?” The gate guards had been killed or at least incapacitated - probably in front of Noctis, probably using Noctis as a distraction and hostage - so his abductors had to have been there at some point.

“Yes.” But he reached up slowly to point at a small button camera pinned to the collar of his shirt. Cor had missed it in all the wires. He fought hard not to glare at it, or rip it and the earpiece off Noctis. It would do little good to antagonize them until the bomb was neutralized.

“And what will start that timer on your chest?”

Noctis flinched, head tilting slightly to the side like he was listening, then spoke in that flat tone Cor remembered from the earlier phone call.

“Once the king arrives to negotiate, he will have ten minutes to comply. If he does not arrive within five minutes, the bomb will -” Noctis stuttered to a stop, chest heaving, and blinked fresh tears out of his eyes before continuing in a much quieter, shakier voice. “The bomb will detonate remotely.”

Cor swore again. He’d suspected as much, but to actually _hear_ it…

He turned away from Noctis. “Did you catch that?” he asked. Harried confirmations tumbled over each other in his ear. “Get His Majesty down here immediately, but keep a safe distance. And where on Ifrit’s Pyre is my bomb squad?!”

Turning back to Noctis, he dared to take another step closer. Noctis paled.

“Cor, please stay back.”

“Whatever the blast radius of that thing is,” he growled, “I’m already in it. Can you take the jacket off for me?”

He wanted a better look at the setup, wanted the _bomb squad_ to have a better look at it when they got there, which according to the continually updating ETA in his ear was less than two minutes out. And Noctis was sweating; he’d never done well with the heat. Two birds, one stone.

Noctis shook his head carefully. “If I jostle it too much, it’ll go off.”

Well that explained his small, slow movements. Cor cursed whoever was responsible for this.

He blew out his breath slowly. “Okay. Okay, kid. There’s a team on the way, we’ll get this sorted -”

“If they touch me, they’ll detonate it,” Noctis said, the flat tone he adopted when he was repeating what he was told to say not enough to mask the wobble in his voice. “Where is the king?”

“Regis is on his way. He’ll be here shortly after the team. They need to try to determine a safe distance for him. How much longer do we have?”

“Three minutes.”

“Okay. He’s on his way. He’ll be here.”

Cor was glad Regis himself didn’t have an earpiece in, but Clarus was giving him tense status updates alongside all the other Crownsguard chatter.

“Tell your king to - to hurry if he wants to see his son again in one piece.” Noctis’s voice broke on the last two words. Cor’s anger surged.

“He can’t move as fast as he used to, darn it!” Cor snarled. “Or hadn’t you noticed that he walks with a cane now?”

Noctis flinched again, and Cor instantly regretted his sharp tone. It wasn’t fair to display his anger when Noctis was the only channel to his abductors, even though he must know that none of it was directed at him.

“I’m sorry, Noctis,” he murmured. “It’s not your fault.”

The team of Crownsguard arrived and hung back while Cor conferred with the perpetrators through Noctis.

“Is it okay if they approach? They won’t touch him, but we need to have an idea of what a safe distance will be before the king is allowed anywhere near Noctis.”

 _“Not that anything will stop him from doing everything he can to save him,”_ Clarus muttered in his ear.

“The king will be safe at the foot of the stairs,” Noctis said. “But they are free to determine this for themselves. You have ninety seconds.”

 _“We’re just inside the door, waiting on the team’s word,”_ Clarus said before Cor could protest that if they killed Noctis, they would lose any chance at negotiating with Regis. _“We’ll make it.”_

Cor waved the team forward and counted seconds as they examined the wires and explosives as best they could without touching Noctis. At 27 seconds left, they tentatively concurred, and Cor gave Clarus the go-ahead.

“Call off your countdown,” Cor demanded, gesturing behind him at where Regis and Clarus were making their way down the front steps of the Citadel, and hoped the little camera they’d put on Noctis was good enough to pick them up clearly.

“The prince -” Noctis swallowed. “The prince is safe for now. The timer will start once our demands have been stated.”

Cor released the breath he’d been holding and watched Regis. He took the stairs as quickly as he could, which was much faster than he probably _should_ , and Cor just prayed that he wouldn’t fall. Though it appeared Clarus had a good enough grip on him to catch him if he did.

Once he was back on level ground, he outpaced Clarus, shaking off his restraining hand and nearly jogging in their direction.

Cor was just about to voice a warning when Noctis beat him to it.

“No! Stay back!”

Regis stumbled to a stop far closer than Cor - or the bomb squad, if their nervous murmuring was anything to go by - would have liked. He caught Clarus’s eyes as he caught up to Regis and jerked his head back toward the Citadel. Clarus just nodded before pulling Regis back several steps, far enough away that they could make it to a good safe distance quickly if they needed to, but close enough that a conversation wouldn’t be impossible.

Regis’s eyes were glued on Noctis, and the pain in them was an expression Cor hadn’t seen since Noctis was eight and lying in a coma. Then his expression hardened, and Cor knew he was about to address the abductors.

“What do you want so badly that you would threaten my son to get it?”

Noctis tilted his head, listening, then blanched.

“No! No, you can’t -” He cut off quickly, snapping his mouth shut with a click of teeth. He ground said teeth together before turning a horrified look on Regis.

“In exchange for the life of the crown prince,” he started, then drew a deep, shuddering breath, “the king will extend the Wall back over the entirety of Lucis. You have ten minutes to comply.”

Cor stared at Noctis in horror as the timer strapped to his chest started ticking down. That was an impossible request. Even his worst nightmare theories hadn’t matched this. He turned his gaze on Regis, who had frozen in shock.

Even as Cor watched, he shook it off, his face going carefully blank under his royal façade.

“I’m afraid I cannot comply.”

“Then your son will - will die.” Noctis’s voice cracked on the words, his breath stuttering and uneven.

“To expand the Wall will be a declaration of war. We are in the middle of an uncertain lull in the fighting with Niflheim. If this is about protecting Lucian citizens, are you prepared to see the rise in the number of lives lost in battle?”

“So you would rather surrender your people than fight to protect them.”

Regis’s jaw tightened. “I would rather my people live under Niflheim’s rule than die under my own, yes.”

Cor’s earpiece crackled. _“Marshal, sir, we’ve tapped into the frequency they’re using for the prince’s earpiece, but we haven’t been able to trace the signal. ” _

“Understood,” he murmured. He made eye contact with Clarus, the Shield’s gaze serious. He knew they would keep both of them updated if the abductors said anything behind the scenes that Noctis was not allowed to repeat. Even if they couldn’t trace the signal, having that extra line of information was valuable.

He turned his attention back to Noctis in time to watch him pale.

“You would rather… no, I’m not doing this!” Cor tensed as Noctis broke from the script. “I can’t say that to him - no! _Please,_ no!”

The timer skipped forward thirty seconds, and Cor grabbed Noctis’s shoulders.

“Noctis, just say it. Regis knows it’s not you.”

Noctis sobbed denials, trying to catch his breath, before continuing, his words halting and broken.

“You would rather watch your - watch your son die than help the people of your kingdom? What kind of a king are you? What kind of father?”

Noctis was openly crying now, and he raised a hand to cover his mouth after parroting the taunts, and Cor feared Noctis was going to be sick. His own fury was rising in response, the helplessness from standing there unable to help neither his king nor his prince mixing with indignation at the underhanded blow to what Cor knew were deep-seated insecurities Regis already harbored.

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for my son or my kingdom if it was within my power,” Regis said. “But you do not understand what you are asking for.”

“You are a self- selfish king, who puts his own comforts above the lives of his people.”

Regis’s jaw twitched. Cor closed his eyes briefly against the sight of Noctis’s face twisted in agony at being forced to say such things to the father he loved dearly.

“I can assure you that that is not the case. The cost of the Wall is far higher than you could imagine.”

“The cost of the Wall will be your son if you do not act quickly.”

“If you kill him, there will be no one to hold the Wall after me. You are sacrificing the future for paltry rewards now. Expanding the Wall will _not_ magically force the Niflians already on Lucian soil _off_. It will prevent them from sending reinforcements, yes, but there are already many highly-staffed bases scattered around the Lucian continent, and they will not remain passive if the Wall is raised over them. It will also allow them access to Insomnia, which will be unprotected from the enemies now trapped within the Wall.”

“You have - you have seven minutes left.”

Cor clenched his fists, outraged at the coldness of the response.

“They will march on Insomnia. The death toll will be catastrophic!”

“Then the pampered residents of Insomnia will taste the horrors of war. They will know what it is like to be abandoned by their king.” Noctis was fighting to keep his tone flat, but the horror bled through. Even so, it was easy for Cor to imagine the sneer that was intended in those words.

Cor bit back his instinctive response that the refugees housed within Insomnia would also suffer again, but he knew that bringing up the refugee crisis would be the opposite of helpful. They were doing what they could, but unfortunately there were far more refugees than they had space for. It was a fact that pained Regis daily, and Cor knew that if it were possible, Regis would pull the entire population of Lucis into Insomnia, under the safety of the Wall. But their housing and job assistance programs were already overtaxed, struggling to keep up with the current numbers even as Regis longed to push for higher daily immigration quotas.

Cor thought it was guilt. Mors had pulled back the Wall after Regis had failed to establish an alliance with Accordo and to hold the front lines of the war. They’d been called back to Insomnia, and the Wall had retreated in their wake. Regis had seethed, the horror at the devastation wrought by their abandonment fueling his rage at his father, but Mors had been unmovable, and by the time Regis had ascended the throne, Imperial bases had already been established across Lucis, making it impossible to expand the Wall back out to its former size.

Now for those same reasons, Regis was being forced to deny demands that mirrored his own desires, but this time at the cost of his son.

“Expanding the Wall at this point will not help anyone except Niflheim.” Cor could hear the desperation starting to color Regis’s voice, though only by long familiarity. “They will surely -”

“Will you stay to watch? Or will you - will you turn your ba- back on your son as you have your kingdom?” Noctis’s breaths were coming in sobs, breaking up the terrible words. Forcing Noctis to voice the threats against himself was one of the worst things they could have done to him, and Cor hated them for it.

“No!” Regis stumbled forward a step, and Clarus grabbed for him to hold him back. “ _Please._ Reconsider, please.”

The only response to Regis’s plea was Noctis’s shaky breathing as he tried to get his emotions under control. Regis’s eyes were locked on Noctis, desperately clinging to his face as though memorizing it.

Then his gaze strayed down to Noctis’s chest, to the blinking red numbers that he would likely be unable to make out at his distance, and his expression crumpled. Cor turned his head away, unable to bear the heartbreak on his king’s face, in time to see Noctis shake his head in horror, eyes wide, whimpered denials falling from his lips.

Cor spun back to Regis. He had hoped Noctis’s expression hadn’t meant what he thought it must, but there was no mistaking the hardened determination on Regis’s face or the resignation in his eyes.

“Let… let him go. I will do it, just let my son go.” Cor had never heard Regis sound so tired, and the grip of fear tightened around his heart.

“Regis -” Clarus’s cautioning was drowned out by Noctis’s screams.

“No! No, Dad, you can’t!”

Regis smiled at Noctis, a sad twist of his lips that did little to reassure any of them, and then the Ring of the Lucii flared on his finger. He clutched tighter at his cane as the pressure in the air from the magic grew enough to make Cor’s teeth ache.

Cor ignored Noctis’s heartbreaking pleas from behind him in favor of watching Regis. He had seen the strain holding up the full Wall had put on Mors before he pulled it back, and Regis was already almost as old as Mors had been when he had died. He had certainly surpassed the life expectancy of any of his other recent ancestors. There was a very real possibility that this effort would kill him. He might have been able to sustain it for a few months, maybe a little over a year, if he was allowed to expand it slowly. But doing it quickly like this would take more energy than he had.

The Wall rippled overhead, shimmering and stretching, and Cor could see it push outwards, the familiar shape distorting as it expanded.

The courtyard held its breath, the only sound the rush of Cor’s blood in his ears and the steady tick of the timer, counting down the seconds left on Noctis’s life. On _Cor’s_ life, because he refused to abandon Noctis. Maybe his own luck that had earned him the moniker “Immortal” would extend to Noctis by proximity.

Over two thirds of their allotted time was up when Regis collapsed. Cor watched it almost in slow motion as his hand slipped off his cane, his knees buckling, and Clarus was only fast enough to guide his fall rather than stop it.

“Regis!”

“ _Dad!_ ” Cor reached out and caught Noctis by the shoulder as the prince instinctively moved to run to his father’s side. Noctis stilled under Cor’s touch, but Cor could feel him trembling.

The Wall flickered but held, as Regis - apparently, _thankfully_ , still conscious - struggled up to his knees instead of remaining sprawled across Clarus’s lap. The Wall was already expanded far enough that Cor couldn’t tell if it was still growing or shrinking or just holding steady at however far out Regis had managed to push it. But Regis was shaking, the tremors severe enough Cor could see them from where he stood at Noctis’s side.

It hit Cor suddenly, that he was going to lose them both today.

The horror was followed by a spark of morbid satisfaction, that gallows humor forged by years at the front of the war and behind enemy lines, that burning need to win, or to die trying and take as many of them down with him as he could. To deal back as much damage or more than he himself had taken. A product of the spite that had kept him going when by all rights he should have died a dozen times over by now.

_It will serve them right, if they lose the Wall entirely._

He was snapped out of it by Noctis screaming.

“Stop it! You don’t know what you’re doing. This will _kill him_!”

Noctis was practically vibrating at Cor’s side, his whole body tensed against his desire to run to Regis, his willpower barely enough to hold him back. Cor kept a hand on his shoulder just in case.

Cor had no way of knowing if they responded to Noctis at all. There was nothing over his earpiece from the techs, so either they were too busy trying to trace the signal and the abductors hadn’t said anything interesting enough worth pausing to repeat, or they hadn’t said anything at all. Cold hearted bastards.

“The strain of this is too great!” Clarus protested. “He’s already weak from holding the Wall as it is! Why do you think he walks with a cane? Why do you think each of our kings has died so young?” It was rare for him to speak out like this, in opposition to Regis’s decision, even coerced as this one was. But it was his duty above all else to safeguard the life of the king, in whatever manner required. And as Cor met Clarus’s eyes, he knew he was prepared to remove the Ring from Regis’s finger if it came to it. And that knowledge was enough to break through the control keeping Cor’s own mouth shut.

“If Regis dies here, the Ring will pass to Noctis,” he snarled, locking his eyes on the camera. “He’s not ready for this. He’s still a _child_ , for Shiva’s sake!” Cor’s own childhood had been sacrificed to the war; he’d go to the Pyre before he let it claim Noctis’s innocence more than it already had. “His body will not be able to bear it.”

Noctis’s face had gone a bloodless white, his terrified gaze fixed solidly on Regis, and Cor wondered if he was even paying attention to anything they might be saying in his earpiece. He doubted he would neglect to relay anything important, but further threats at this point would do little good and barely be worth repeating. Regis had tried, and he had failed, as they had all expected. The only thing left to hope was that the abductors would acknowledge the truth of the situation.

The bomb squad leader inched closer, keeping Cor between her and the camera pinned to Noctis’s chest. Cor gave her a subtle nod when she looked to him for permission, and though she still refrained from touching the contraption, she went back to examining it, this time specifically for a way to defuse it.

He watched her examine it for a long moment, her bottom lip caught worriedly between her teeth, before his earpiece crackled back to life with a status update from the techs.

_“Sir, it sounds like they’re fighting. Arguing. It’s hard to make out the details because they aren’t talking to the prince directly, but they’re definitely arguing amongst themselves. ” _

It wasn’t enough for Cor to truly hope, he had learned better than that throughout his harsh life, but it lightened a little of the oppressive despair weighing on his heart. There was a chance, then, that they might have convinced some of them, and it renewed his resolve to stay with Noctis until the end, whatever that end might be.

At a minute and a half left, the squad leader spoke quietly. “Permission to try to defuse it, sir?”

Cor looked to Noctis, but though he was wild-eyed, he did not protest, so Cor nodded. They were running out of time, and the bit of hope that had somehow blossomed without Cor’s knowledge or consent withered again. If the abductors were just going to let the timer run out, despite everything Regis had done, then they might as well try to stop it themselves, even with the risk of setting it off prematurely.

At the first touch of her hands on the jacket, Noctis startled, snapping out of whatever panicked state he had sunk into, and he turned his frantic eyes on Cor.

“Get out of here,” he whispered.

Cor shook his head.

“My dad needs you! He’ll need you if I -” he cut himself off with a sob, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth to try to smother it.

Cor felt a fresh stab of guilt. Refusing to leave Noctis meant dying with him if it came to it, which in turn meant leaving Regis, and Cor had been prepared for that, but Noctis using Regis’s emotions against him was ruthless. It felt like something he had learned from Ignis, because it wasn’t the kind of tactic Noctis came by naturally. It also wasn’t enough to budge him, but it did cause him to look back at Regis, who was standing again now with Clarus’s help, and the pain in his eyes broke Cor’s heart. Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he’d rather not have to face Regis’s grief at the loss of his son every day for the rest of his life while also carrying the guilt of having abandoned Noctis at the end. Regis would trade places with him, with either of them, in a heartbeat. Would he even forgive Cor for leaving Noctis now?

He would leave if Regis ordered him, he decided, but not before, and he turned away from his king.

“That’s not going to happen,” he told Noctis, steeling himself against the pleading he knew was coming.

“Leave me, Cor, _please_!” Noctis begged, hands clutching at Cor’s jacket in defiance of his words. “Just leave!” His voice was a raw scream, tearing at his throat and Cor’s heart. “Please, you don’t have to die, I don’t want you to die.”

“I’m not leaving you, Noctis. They’re gonna get this off you. You’re walking away from this with me.” He tapped his knuckles under Noctis’s jaw, nudging his head up. “Don’t look, just focus on me.”

Cor’s own traitorous eyes strayed to the red numbers. Less than a minute now.

“I’m proud of you,” he said, to distract them both. “I’m so proud. You’re going to be a wonderful king.”

“Cor, _please_ -”

“Listen to me. We’re gonna be fine.” He glanced down at the woman kneeling in front of Noctis, who subtly shook her head, her eyes glistening. 26 seconds. Cor cursed mentally. 

He slowly put his free hand behind himself and signaled for Clarus to move Regis back. Ideally, he’d get him inside. Ideally, Regis wouldn’t watch his son die. But Cor knew, and knew that _Clarus_ knew, that Regis would never abandon Noctis even in this.

19

What could he possibly say to Noctis?

18

The false assurances died in his throat before he could even open his mouth.

17

Despite everything, they were going to lose him, though Cor wouldn’t be around to see it.

16

Noctis gasped. Cor jerked his attention back to his face, saw the wide-eyed disbelief and hope, and dropped his gaze to the timer. Stopped at 14 seconds, it blinked twice, then went dead.

“They stopped it,” Noctis murmured. He sagged, and Cor reached out to catch him before he collapsed. “It won’t detonate.”

Noctis got his feet back under him, but he was still shaking as Cor stripped the jacket and harness off him as quickly as he could and passed it off to the squad leader, knowing the team would take care of dismantling it entirely. He wanted to fling it but didn’t dare risk setting off the explosives even with the timer deactivated. He settled for plucking the camera from Noctis’s collar and crushing it under his heel. The crunch was satisfying and took the rough edges off his fury, evidence be darned.

Then he pulled Noctis into a tight hug, ignoring the stares of the Crownsguard around them at the uncharacteristic display of affection.

Noctis clung to him, sobbing into his shoulder and letting Cor support most of his weight.

“I’ve got you, kid,” Cor murmured, running a hand gently up and down Noctis’s back, mindful of the old scars. “You’re gonna be okay. I’m so proud of you. Let’s get you inside.”

He guided Noctis slowly across the expanse of the courtyard, keeping a firm grip on him in case he stumbled. He could see Regis itching to move, to cross the distance between them faster, but with the way he was leaning on Clarus, it would be a miracle if he could make it back up the stairs and into the Citadel without the stretcher the medics had brought.

Noctis all but collapsed into Regis’s arms when they finally reached him, both of them trembling. Cor reached out to help Clarus steady them, meeting the Shield’s expression of fond exasperation with a subtle twist of his own lip.

“What happened?” Regis asked, directing it to no one in particular, his eyes still fixed on Noctis alive in his arms. Cor exchanged a glance with Clarus, who tilted his head in a shrug.

“I’m not certain myself - ” Cor started, but Noctis interrupted him, his words hard to make out with his face pressed to his father’s shoulder.

“They started fighting. I don’t think they knew the toll the Wall takes on you, and when you collapsed, some of them had second thoughts. I guess that faction won.”

Regis closed his eyes and dropped his head to press a kiss to Noctis’s hair.

“I had feared…” He stopped and shook his head slightly, refusing to finish the thought. He clutched Noctis closer, then lifted his head to meet Cor’s eyes, and Cor saw the tightly leashed fury burning in them. It sent a shiver down his spine and made him very glad that he was on Regis’s side.

“Though today they saw my weakness, we will find them, and when we do, they will know my strength,” he vowed, every inch the vengeful king, and the pressure of magic was heavy in the air.

“I’m sorry,” Noctis murmured, turning his head to bury his face even deeper in the shoulder of Regis’s cape. The mantle of king fell away in response, leaving just a relieved father behind.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Regis said firmly.

“I said all those,” he paused to gasp in a wet breath, “all those terrible things. I didn’t mean them, I never wanted to say them. I never should have let them make me -”

“Noctis!” Regis cut him off. “I know they were not your words, and I am so glad you said them, because otherwise they would have taken you from me.” Regis changed his grip from holding Noctis to him to grasping his shoulder to push him away. “Look at me, Noctis.”

Noctis kept his eyes trained on the ground for a long moment before he dragged his gaze up to meet Regis’s.

“None of this was your fault. You do not need to feel guilty for any of it. I do not _want_ you to feel guilty for it. None of it was you, and if any of those words hurt me, it’s only because of the pain it caused you to say them.

“You did exactly what you were supposed to; you complied as much as you could in order to reduce the harm done to yourself. They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

Noctis shook his head, and Regis gave him a small smile.

“Good. Now let’s get you inside.”

Cor and Clarus fell in on either side of them, Clarus supporting Regis and Cor on the other side of Noctis, both of them ready to catch should either stumble, but they made it up the stairs without issue. Regis waved the medics off when they reached the top.

“I am tired, but I should be fine. The Wall has been returned to its normal boundaries around Insomnia. I was unable to push it out far enough to encounter an Imperial base, so hopefully Niflheim was not alerted and will not attempt to retaliate. If they do…” Regis sighed.

“Then we will deal with it when the time comes,” Clarus said, in the same no-nonsense tone he took with Iris when she misbehaved. “For now, we will clear the rest of your schedule for the day, and you will rest to recover from the strain. It may have been for only a short time, but the drain from holding an expanded Wall, especially without the assistance of amplifiers, was more than I would have liked.”

Cor caught a glimpse of Noctis’s face, and the surprised amusement at seeing his father receive a talking-to was relieving. It would take a long time for him to recover from the trauma of the day, but even that pale smile was enough to give Cor hope that he _would_ recover just fine.

Regis’s meek response - Clarus when he was in Dad Mode was terrifying, Cor had been on the receiving end enough times to know - faded out of Cor’s awareness as he caught sight of Noctis’s earpiece.

He hung back a step, meeting Clarus’s concerned look with a small shake of his head, and plucked the earpiece from Noctis’s ear as he ushered the pair into the Citadel ahead of him. He paused outside, letting the door close between them, trusting Clarus to take care of them on his own from here. Besides, Gladiolus and Ignis would be descending on Noctis shortly.

“You bastards will pay for this,” he growled into the earpiece once he was alone. “I will not rest until I have hunted the lot of you down like the beasts you are. I hope you’re ready.”

He let the earpiece slip from his fingers and brought his heel down on it, leaving it shattered on the steps of the Citadel before following his king and prince inside. He had a hunt to prepare for.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on tumblr at [prince-noctisluciscaelum](https://prince-noctisluciscaelum.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
